


Watch Me

by pinkmoogle



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkmoogle/pseuds/pinkmoogle
Summary: Tumblr Prompt #42: "Watch me."Prompto wants to show you that he's just as capable of protecting you as anyone else.





	Watch Me

_Bang. Bang. B a n g._

“Prompto,” you nearly wheeze, fingers tightening around your boyfriend’s forearm in another feeble attempt to get him to follow you down the Rock of Ravatogh’s slippery western slope. “Prompto, come on!  _Please_! There’s too many of them!”

You’re met with resistance as the sharpshooter slows and straightens his posture to stare down the sight of his handgun for a brief second before he’s pulling back on the trigger, the calculated bullet erupting from the barrel with another earsplitting burst and efficiently downing one of the many pursuing wyverns just several meters behind you.

“ _Whoo_! Did you  _see_ that?!”

Your relief is short and terse; despite the comfort of seeing one of those creatures skid to a lifeless stop across the craggy terrain,  _fear_  rapidly settles into the pit of your stomach when several more clear the rocky ridges to pick up where their fallen comrade had left off.  Prompto tenses beneath your fingers when he takes notice of it, too, though rather than turning on his heel and herding you down the remainder of the slope, he’s sinking a hand into his pocket to retrieve more bullets.

All you’d wanted was a little alone time. The caravan down at Verinas Mart had become stifling in the recent days as the boys prepared themselves to take on Zu, Ravatogh’s feathered sultan, though the lack of space ( _and_  privacy, for that matter) had bordered on maddening. Stolen affections in the general store’s bathroom facilities had gotten really old  _really_  fast, and despite Prompto’s capabilities, Ignis had all but forbade the two of you from wandering off after night had fallen; the creatures of Ravatogh in combination with high-level daemons shouldn’t be taken on ‘single-handedly’, apparently.

When the opportunity arose to slip away during daylight hours, you hadn’t given Prompto much of a choice in the matter; you  _needed_  to get away from the caravan, and it’d been almost two weeks since you’d gotten to spend any time with him when the others weren’t in the general vicinity, after all.

It’d been worth it, too. So, so worth it… Ravatogh’s heat couldn’t compare to the way that his skin felt against yours when you two were finally alone, warm and smooth and soft beneath your questing fingertips as they delved beneath the barriers of his clothes after weeks of having to refrain.

Leave it to bad luck to end up in such a dire situation on the way  _back_ , huh?

“Prompto, we need to  _go_ ,” you say, staring past the golden tufts of his hair at the shrieking wyverns that’ve all simultaneously taken to the sky to begin their descent. “We need to get back to our chocobos and go back to the caravan and —”

“I can take them.” With his handful of bullets withdrawn, Prompto begins to slip them one by one into the chamber of his handgun. “There’s a lot, I know, but I can _take them_.”

“You can’t!” A resounding cry from an approaching wyvern drowns out the trembling panic in your tone of voice and you try to make up for it by giving another hard tug at Prompto’s forearm. “If we don’t get moving, they’re gonna catch us. Prompto, please stop, you _can’t_. There are too many!”

“Watch me,” he says, thoughtfully chewing at the swell of his lower-lip before locking the gun’s chamber into place and raising it to squarely meet the soaring herd of beasts that are closing the distance by the literal second.

_Bang. Bang._  One drops, two drops. _Bang. Bang._  Another, followed by another. You screw your eyes closed, wincing as the bullets ring out with resounding spurts, followed closely by heavy thumps against the ground not far from where the two of you are standing.  

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

You hear the clinking of more bullets as Prompto reloads, the empty casings spilling from the chamber to bounce and clatter on the rock at your feet before he’s refilling the inserts with skilled, deft fingers. Cocking his gun, he’s raising it to fire off at the remaining wyverns once again with one, two,  _three_  more bullets before…  _silence._

“(Y/N),” he says softly, calmly. His free hand curls around the wrist that’s still tight around his forearm, and he’s chuckling when you refuse to let it go. “(Y/N), they’re gone. I got ‘em.”

When you pry open your eyes, you don’t need to see the evidence scattered across the slope to know that he’d been right. You can see it in his eyes; the confidence, the security.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know.”

Your heart surges within your chest, the familiar sting of tears prickling at the backs of your eyes at the blatant _truth_  behind a statement so simple. How could you ever bring yourself to doubt him? How could you have been so scared?

“Never, ever,” he continues, drawing you in when you let yourself collapse into his chest in both relief and raw, inhibited love. “You can trust me…  _Always_.” 


End file.
